Friday, January 21, 2005

Another Sergio Mendez song I fell in love with is “So many Stars”. What can I say? I guess I am a hopeless romantic. Bear with me a moment. Imagine yourself one starry night in an open field under the moonlight with champagne and roses with that special someone. The only sound you hear are the leaves of the trees softly rustling as a cool night wind passes by. Then in the distance, but well within earshot, you hear an orchestra playing this song, and the soft bosa nova beat and violins adding a touch of romance to an already romantic evening… then you take you partner by the hand ask her to dance as fireflies dance nearby. Di bah?

SO MANY STARS

The dawn is filled with dreams So many dreams, which one is mine?

One must be right for me. Which dream of all the dreams When there’s a dream for every star?

And there are oh, so many stars, so many stars.

The wind is filled with songs So many songs, which one is mine? One must be right for me.

Which song of all the songs, When there’s a song for every star?

And there are oh, so many stars, so many stars.

Alone, the countless days The endless nights that I have searched

So many eyes, so many hearts, so many smiles.

Which one to choose? Which way to go? How can I tell? How will I know?

I found myself listening to a Sergio Mendez and Brazil 66 song I fell in love with a long time ago. It’s entitled “Like a Lover” and everytime I hear that song it makes me fall in love all over again. The emotions I feel when I hear the song are so strong that I feel like there is so much love inside me, all bottled up, that I want to share with someone special. J

Like a lover the morning sun
Slowly rises and kisses you awake
Your smile is soft and drowsy as you let it play
Upon your face
Oh how I dream I might be like the morning sun to you

Like a lover the river wind
Sighs and ripples its fingers through your hair
Upon your cheeks it lingers
Never having known a sweeter place
Oh how I dream I might be like the river wind to you

How I envy a cup that knows your lips
Let it be me my love
Or the table that feels your fingertips
Let it be me
Let me be your love
Bring an end to the endless days and nights
Without you

Like a lover the velvet moon
Shares your pillow and watches while you sleep
Its light arrives on tiptoe, gently taking you
In its embrace
Oh how I dream I might be like the velvet moon to you

She walked into my life like a cool breeze on warm summer night. She stood at the top of the steps of her apartment building in the heart of Paris. She was wearing a beautiful red dress, her hair teased, her milky soft skin glowing against the backdrop of elegant French wood paneling. No, she isn’t some girl I met in Paris, for in all honestly, I have never been to Paris, or France for that matter. We call her “Ibyang”, short for Vivian. Her Korean name is Tae-Young Kang and she’s the character in television’s most popular series, “Lovers in Paris”. Believe me, I had no intention of watching the series until one fateful night my sister and mother were watching the series and I got hooked. So hooked, in fact, that I wasn’t willing to wait until the end of the series to find out if she and Carlo (Ki-Joo) would end up together or not. Fortunately for me, my niece has the VCD compilation of the series. Don’t worry, I won’t tell you the ending, but suffice to say, she has become part of my evening habit. And now that I’m done with the VCD, I wonder if I would be able to find an “Ibyang” I can call my own. Talk about wishful thinking, but then again, who knows?

Thursday, January 20, 2005

His name might not ring a bell to many of us, but to a small group of people in Aringay, La Union, that name is legendary. He is Ambrosio Cacanindin, my grandfather and Worl War II Martyr. Here is his story:

When the japanese occupied the town of Aringay, La Union, my grandfather Ambrosio was the Scout Master of the area. During that period, a scout master is highly regarded as a man of distinction. That being the case, he was sought out by the japanese occupation officers and forced to take up the position as Chief of Police of the town under the flag of the Japanese Imperial Army. He was told that if he chose to decline, all the men in the town will be captured and killed. Thinking of his townmates, he reluctantly took on the task. Shortly tehreafter, he was suspected by the guerilla forces as a collaborator. An "arrest warrant" was issued for him by the guerilla officers. Before it was enforced, however, the americans began bombing the nearby towns and Ambrosio managed to escape with his family to a safer area. According to one of her daughters, editha, my mother, the trek included crossing a river with dead bodies floating in it, ducking through coconut trees to avoid the shrapnels from american bombs and passing through japanese-controlled checkpoints.

It was in the guerilla-controlled town where they sought refuge and where Ambrosio and his children were "asked" to go to with them to the mountains. There, Ambrosio was killed for allegedly collaborating with the enemy.

Today, Ambrosio Cacanindin is remembered by his contemporaries and their families as a man who saved the men of Aringay from being massacred. His love for his townmates was so great that he would rather be accused of being a collaborator than to see his fellow man suffer in the clutches of the enemy.

The may 1 rebellion of 2001 that heralded the climax and sudden end of EDSA III (perpetuated by the stalwarts of Joseph Estrada) was another memorable moment in my life. My classmate Nigel and I decided to join the other forces guarding mendiola bridge leading to the palace against the EDSA III forces that were slowly making their way to the area from the EDSA Shrine. After having a light dinner of siopao and softdrink at a carenderia near CEU, we called up Radio Veritas to report first-hand the activities at Mendiola. At that moment, officers of RAM and Guardians went on stage to announce that they will not support the EDSA 3 forces. At that point, the crowd cheered and in a few moments we received word that Gloria Arroyo was making her way to the stage to assure the public that she was well in control of the situation and that she had the military’s full support. After staying a few more minutes, we decided that since Gloria already went on-stage that nothing exciting was going to happen. Boy, were we ever wrong! After dropping off Nigel at Espana and agreeing to return after a short rest and bath, I headed for home. Little did I know that 30 minutes later the EDSA3 forces would reach the area where we were before and destroyed the barricades and everything and everyone that stood in their way. Our fellow “guardians sought refuge at the Centro Escholar and San Beda campuses to escape the wrath of the angry masa. So in the end, instead of resting, I ended up monitoring the radio and television in what was to be the violent May 1 uprising against the Arroyo administration. /end/

I remember watching the impeachment trial of Erap Estrada and suddenly the whole prosecution walked out of the Senate Session Hall. Instinctively, i reached for my cell phone, called up Nigel and Doc, and after setting up a designated meeting area, jumped into my 80's lancer box type. Just as i was leaving the driveway, my mom, who just arrived after watching Ms. Saigon with her amigas, asked me where i was going and i told her that history is unfolding and that i need to get to EDSA fast. I was smart enough to park inside the Meralco compund where my sister works and walked to the EDSA shrine. But i couldnt see my friend nigel anywhere! So i grabbed the phone, called him up and he sad "Nasa ilalim ako ng walis tambo na kumakaway". I saw the tambo, but i couldnt see him. It turnes out that we had our backs to each other. Since that night, we religiosly went on vigil until ERAP was ousted or resigned. We had our little private joke about EDSA II as well. Delegations from Ateneo and La Salle were so many that they had to be ferried by buses to EDSA. When their delegations were called, everyone of them would shout and chant their school name. When it was our turn to be called, the announcer said "Palakpakan din natin ang delegation ng Angelicum! Ayon silang dalawa!". Boy! Whatta experience that was! But it was a great experience that gave us lots of happy memories. (Ang kwento ng May 1 rebellion sa susunod na blog!)

Friday, January 14, 2005

During the second semester of 1998, a handful of students, present company included, were asked by the secretary of the Dean of College of Angelicum to proceed to the coNFerence hall to meet our new broadcasting professor. That man was Orly Punzalan. Although his name did not ring any bells with my classmates, i knew him by name only as the father of drama actress Princess Punzalan. Little did we know that this tall, jolly man in his early or mid 50's would change our lives forever.

Orly (or Tatang as he is popularly known) taught us everything he knew about journalism and broadcasting. It was during his broadcasting classes that we got to know about his vast broadcasting experience. We found out later on that he was also one of the very first people to broadcast freely immediately following the departure of MArcos from office.

Orly soon became not just a professor but a second father to most of us. Our class would join him for lunch in a small restaurant he owned near Sienna College after taping our broadcasting projects and he would even invite us to his home in Cavite during the weekends. I myself have been privileged to have been to his home several times. He was a man who was never selfish about anything. He treated us as family and so did we.

He invited us to join him in his evening show at Radio veritas called Touching Lives and we were his "on-off" guests for almost two years. His views on politics, religion and other topics something we enjoyed discussing and debating about. It is also in Veritas were we got to meet his wife Pilar (Tita Baby) and their daughter Meg, who we treated as our little sister.

When we learned that he died of a stroke last January 7 at the National Kidney Institute, we felt that a big part of us has died as well. The number of people who showed up at his wake and burial is a clear indication of how he has touched so many lives. We were honored to be called upon to talk about this wonderful man we called our second father , but in reality, words are not enough to express our love and gratitude to this man we called mentor, friend and father. The new students of Communication Arts of Angelicum will miss out on the experience of having Tatang as a professor.

Until the end, he treated us as family and in return we will continue to treat and watch over his family as our own. His signing off from the airwaves and from this mortal realm we call earth is not an indication that he has left us for good, for although we feel an empty void with his passing, he will never be truly gone from our hearts.